Warning: Characterization and “canonicity” may or may not have been ignored for the sake of
gags storytelling.
Also, many thanks to Thalraxal.
I'm sorry.
*** ***
Pinefall High Dormitory – Room 106 (John Dove’s Room)
Secret Santa.
A purposeless event that defies any logical explanation in John Dove’s mind. As expected, only the hollow people of the grayscale world would come up with something like forcing people to give gifts to strangers as some form of social exercise. Nevertheless, John Dove does not judge, and fulfills the tasks assigned to him without complaint.
Resting on his bed, the boy glances up at the tiny strip of paper with the name of his “target”.
“Something Minato Coastrise would like…” he muses, submerging himself in his thoughts to develop a suitable idea for this project he did not ask for. He could be out there looking for
the truth, or convincing Sakura to cook him an extra portion of Christmas dinner. Both seem about equally appealing ideas.
Instead, he spends the good part of fifteen minutes pondering the logistics of wrapping the Coastrise sisters in ribbon tape and calling it a day. What the actual fuck, John Dove.
“No, I guess it is not really feasible. In that case…”
The next five minutes are spent developing a three-stage plan. The first step is by far the hardest; the one upon which the whole plan rests.
“Might as well get on with it, then…” His voice is almost a sigh as he rises from his bed to face the colorless world beyond yet again.
*** ***
“Um, John, I don’t know if there is a good way to say this: you look like a creep right now—uwah!”
Elise Marie Pelltier finds herself grabbed by the collar of her sweater and pulled down to kneel alongside John.
“Be quiet. You’ll make them notice me.”
“So you go and make me an accomplice to your crimes right away…”
John Dove is spying on the Coastrises. The three seemingly idle the afternoon away at the dorm’s common area, keeping their distance from the rest of the First Class as ever. On the other hand, it is good he finds them alone. It makes things easier for him this time.
“So? Why are you acting like a creep this time?”
What does she mean by “this time”? Seriously.
“I am Minato Coastrise’s Secret Santa.”
“That…in no way makes your current actions any less creepy.”
John displays wisdom by ignoring the girl’s words (?). His attention is centered on his targets. As he watches them, his mind creates the perfect vision of his completed plan.
“Yeong-Hui is ‘a cute girl’, isn’t she.”
“…alright, I’m calling the police.”
John rolls his eyes.
“If you have time to make jokes, then make yourself helpful. I need to separate Minato from his sisters for a minute or two.”
There is something like a crooked grin on the girl’s face.
“You really don’t know how to talk to a girl, John,” she retorts, but there is no real bite in her words.
“I know you really like ice cream.”
“Oh, much better!”
“Can you handle Aleen King as well?”
“What does Aleen have to do with—ooh, now I get it!” Elise has the smug face of the one who has figured out the culprit before it’s revealed in-story. “You know, for one who always looks so disinterested, you’re putting a lot of effort into this.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. This is about the bare minimum anybody would devote to such a pointless activity.”
“Right, right,” utters back the girl who might be having a little fun.
*** ***
John Dove stands alone in the teacher’s lounge, holding the telephone handset. Really, sometimes it seems the earth swallows the teachers the moment classes end. Well, the better for him.
He calls somebody he has not spoken to in a while.
“Uncle—”
A “ker-chak” kind of sound, followed by the hollow beeping of a call ended.
John Dove rolls his eyes and calls again. He knows the other side will pick it up. They cannot not do so.
“I told you not to call, you fucking—“
“Yes, yes, whatever. Uncle, I need you to send me something.”
“…eh? Don’t fuck with me; I dunno what you’re up to now, but—”
“Look, I got you Pyry Leijonamieli’s autograph. I’m fairly sure that means you owe me. Will you please stop wasting our time and listen?”
*** ***
As ever, the sea is good to John Dove. Merely standing on the beach, basking on the cool breeze, makes him feel closer to himself and to
the truth he glimpsed beneath the argent moon. It is only for a moment, but John Dove, right here, in this place, knows peace.
Most unfortunately, he is not alone.
“We will not achieve anything if you stay like that, Yeong-Hui.”
The small girl does answer, choosing instead to make herself even smaller while using her sister as a barrier. John does not mind that, instead regarding the one partaking of one of her usual Tetra Pak juices. Today’s reads “strawberry milk and anchovies”.
Why even.
“And why are
you here?”
“To make sure everything is clean and proper! Also, ice cream!”
John slowly, very slowly, tilts his head to one side.
“I mean, for all I know you’re using the whole Secret Santa thing as an excuse to sexually harass them.”
Zhou Coastrise nods as if she is sure this whole plan was John’s means to get them alone with him. Faced with the perception the women share, John Dove is obligated to ask.
“Am I really that untrustworthy?”
“Yup!”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Um.”
These are the kinds of things that make someone like John Dove give up on humanity. His eyes devoid of expression shift from Elise Marie to Zhou to Yeong-Hui, who promptly disappears behind her sister.
“…whatever, let us get this done and over with,” he concludes while reaching for his backpack. He takes out Aleen King’s camera.
“Yeong-Hui, take off your clothes.”
“Stop proving my point, you doofus!”
“Ow.”
It is the kind of scene that demands a paper fan. This is the American Northwest, however, so Elise Pelltier’s fists will have to do.
*** ***
“Here.”
Minato Coastrise looks like he really does not want to look up and away from his breakfast, but the shadow over him does not leave and his patience has a limit.
“What do you—”
In front of him, looking down at him from across the dining table, stands John Dove, hand outstretched to present him with…something giftwrapped. A rectangular object around the size of a notebook. Minato is sharp enough to notice his sisters looking away and pretending they are not paying attention. Anybody would deem their behavior suspicious.
“In fulfillment of the instructions imparted upon us, I am handing you a Christmas present. May you enjoy a merry Christmas and a pleasant rest of the holidays.”
John leaves with that. His actions attract some attention, but considering everybody is expected to hand over a gift that day, it is perhaps his show of initiative that spares him from mockery or some other unsightly reaction.
John had an early breakfast, so he leaves the others to their meals and settles down in the common area. He bothers not with the TV—John Dove cares not for Christmas-time TV—, merely easing his body on the comfortable couch and closing his eyes to bask in the cool weather seeping through the windows.
Minato Coastrise’s opinion and feelings on his gift are none of his business. In John Dove’s opinion, Minato is better off enjoying the holidays with his family; he certainly does not need anything from John Dove, and there is nothing else John Dove can do for him. If the purpose of this “Secret Santa” exercise was to encourage bonding among the students, it has failed in John Dove’s case. Regardless, with his obligation fulfilled, John is again at peace to follow his own needs and desires.
However, the search for
the truth can wait a few minutes. Let the young man enjoy a minute of peace—
“You did a good thing back there, John.”
John opens a single eye to engage the person looking down at his resting form while standing behind the couch.
Faced with the end of his solitude, John Dove replies the only way he possibly could.
“…why are you still following me?”
“Ice cream.”
John Dove is honestly flabbergasted.
“It is breakfast time, Elise Marie.”
“Pay up already.”
There is a bit of a staring contest after that, the inexpressive boy testing the mettle of an unflinching young woman. Inevitably, however, John relents and rises to his feet. A deal is a deal, after all.
“Might as well check whether Miss Popplewell is even open for business today. Give her the proper Christmas greetings while at it.”
“Oh, so you care enough about Miss Popplewell to give her ‘proper Christmas greetings’, huh.”
“It is called manners. I am sure you are acquainted with the concept. More importantly, isn’t it about time you tell me your secret?” John posits as he steps into the perpetually overcast outdoors. Well, it is all always grey to him, no matter the weather.
“My secret?” repeats the girl, her face and voice the perfect picture of innocence.
“Yes,” insists John, uncaring of the girl’s bold deflection. “I mean, at least one of our classmates claims to be a magician or magus or whatever; Miss Iburi is some sort of theistic figure in her homeland; Sakura is making a commendable effort to pretend she is not some sort of combat maid, and do not even get me started on Ubon and Pyry. So…”
John wears the tiniest smile. Perhaps the gesture is the closest to an admission that he feels comfortable around Elise Marie Pelltier.
“What is your deal? Are you a magician girl too?”
“Of course not,” retorts the girl in an almost sputtering voice.
“Fallen angel.”
“Are you going to list random things until I admit anything just to make you stop?”
“A singing idol with the blood of a dragon.”
“Now you’re just being silly.”
“Possessed by a demon.”
Elise turns her head very slowly, to meet the boy who is mirroring her. Just as slowly, she raises an eyebrow. The boy’s smile becomes imperceptibly broader.
“John Dove, is this your idea of a joke?”
The boy is by now looking at the dusty road ahead, as if he has already dismissed the topic of conversation he himself proposed.
“…perhaps.”
The single-word answer makes Elise roll her eyes.
“Ah, so we’re back to ‘quiet and mysterious’, huh.”
“I beg your pardon?” asks the boy who would never describe himself as “quiet and mysterious”. After that, John can only ignore the girl’s curt laughter for which he can find no explanation.
The two youngsters’ trip to the store is long in this town cradled in silence. The morning of Christmas Day is as grey as every other morning.
John Dove does not particularly mind.
“By the way, John.”
“Hmm?”
“Why only the little sister? I thought you planned to take a picture of the two of them.”
“Ah, that. Well, yes, that was indeed the original plan, but then I took a good look at Zhou Coastrise. I mean, she looks like
that.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But then she behaves like
that.”
“Huh.”
“So I realized any picture I take of her will come out either utterly drab or like a gravure photo, and neither option would be appropriate.”
“That’s…surprisingly thoughtful of you.”
“What do you mean ‘surprisingly’? I am always thoughtful.”
Thus ends this short and weird tale of two liars, now on the hunt for ice cream.
“By the way, Elise Marie.”
“Hmm?”
“Is this a date?”
“…keep following that trail of thought, and I might just become possessed by a demon, John Dove.”
“Duly noted.”
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Originally Posted by Colt Davin
